


the loose ends will make knots

by allamaraine



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-14 18:25:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4575078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allamaraine/pseuds/allamaraine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Deanna was Odan's temporary host instead of Will? </p><p>A rewriting of TNG 4x23 "The Host," incorporating elements of the Trill from DS9. Thanks to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/mylittleredgirl/pseuds/mylittleredgirl">mylittleredgirl</a> for beta! </p><p>Title shamelessly stolen from the song of the same title by Stars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Deanna Troi, Personal Log, Stardate 44817.9.The_ Enterprise _will be receiving an honored guest today: Ambassador Neren Odan. Although I myself have never met him before, my mother has mentioned his name a few times in passing. I believe she knew his father as well. She’s always been uncharacteristically tight-lipped about them. “Strange family, that one,” is the most I’ve gotten out of her. I’m interested to see what it is about Ambassador Odan that makes my mother stay silent. I will be joining the Captain in greeting the Ambassador when his shuttle arrives in a few hours. _

 

When Deanna finally meets the Ambassador in the shuttle bay, she finds that he’s not at all what she predicted, though she couldn’t tell you exactly who it was that she was expecting. Someone intimidating, perhaps, someone even Lwaxana would give way to (as foolish a notion as she knows that is). Instead, Ambassador Odan is a genial, soft spoken man, with a warm smile and a firm handshake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Counselor Troi,” he says, though not entirely sincerely. He’s wary of her. For what reason, she cannot fathom. He’s difficult to read, yet she can tell that he harbors no ill-will towards her. It’s more as if he is worried _she_ will do something to _him_. “I’ve known your mother for many years.” Maybe that’s all it is. Lwaxana does tend to leave quite an impression on people, which can sometimes carry over to her daughter. Deanna smiles, both in amusement at that thought and in greeting.

 

“Thank you, Ambassador. And my condolences.”

 

Confusion. “For what?”

 

“For having to work with my mother.”

 

Odan blinks at Deanna in surprise before responding with a gentle laugh. “Oh no, she’s a lovely woman. And very good at getting people out of difficult situations.”

 

“That she is,” says Picard. “Ambassador, if you would join us for a short briefing with my senior staff, Mr. O’Brien can transport your luggage to your quarters?”

 

“That would work just fine, Captain. My suitcases, fortunately, do not share in my irrational fear of transporters. Thank you again for accommodating for my shuttle.”

 

“It’s not a problem at all. If you’ll follow me, we’re meeting in the observation lounge.”

 

“Sounds wonderful.”

 

The three of them start off, with Picard leading the way. Deanna falls into step next to Odan. “My apologies if this is rude, but I can’t help noticing that you don’t have any sort of staff with you.” Lwaxana never goes anywhere without at least Mr. Homn.

 

“Normally I would. However, in the case of the Peliari, I think it will be best if I come to the negotiations alone. The Alphans and the Betans are very distrustful of outsiders at this point. It was hard enough getting them to agree to speak with me, despite the family connection.”

 

“Family connection?” asks Picard.

 

“Yes, my father was an Ambassador as well. He worked extensively with the Peliari. If it weren’t for him, this situation would be much worse than it already is. They might have even disintegrated into civil war by now.”

 

“I’m sure he taught you well,” Deanna says.

 

“Absolutely. The best teacher I could have had. I was really… immersed in the diplomatic process, thanks to him. You probably know all about that, Counselor.”

 

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly as they step into a turbolift. “Do I ever.” After Picard announces the appropriate deck, she continues, “The number of official functions I was dragged to as a child – there was one particularly memorable one hosted by the Andorians…” She proceeds, much to Odan’s amusement, to relay the story of how she and the Andorian Ambassador’s children wreaked havoc on a conference, leaving behind them a trail of cake crumbs and paint and overworked attachés.

 

When they reach the observation lounge, the rest of the senior staff is waiting. They all stand when Picard, Odan, and Deanna enter. The captain goes through introductions, and when Odan and Beverly shake hands, Deanna immediately senses the strong attraction between the two of them. When Odan moves on to talk to Data, Deanna catches her friend’s eye. Beverly raises her eyebrows suggestively in response. Deanna smirks and walks over. “He is rather handsome, isn’t he?” she whispers. She and Beverly long ago perfected the art of making quiet commentary that no one else in the room will hear.

 

“I wonder how far down his spots go,” murmurs Beverly, staring at Odan.

 

“Beverly!” Beverly simply smiles back at Deanna with that wide, puckish grin of hers. Before they can say anything else, Picard calls for the meeting to begin, and for them all to bring their attention to the Ambassador. Everyone sits, eyes expectantly on Odan.

 

He nods at Picard. “Thank you, Captain. As I’m sure you’re all aware, tensions on Peliar Zel’s moons have been rising. The two moons were settled five hundred years ago by two different dissident groups that were at odds with what was then the more totalitarian world government of  Peliar Zel. Since then, Peliar Zel has become democratic, but the peoples of the two moons are still somewhat… skeptical of their homeworld’s motives. So the Peliari’s attempts to mediate between the two groups are unfortunately not always successful. This time, the Alphans and Betans have come into conflict over Alpha’s use of Peliar Zel’s magnetic field as an energy resource.”

 

“Their magnetic field?” asks Geordi, incredulous.

 

“That is correct.”

 

“But that’s… we looked into that on Earth decades ago but it proved too hazardous to the environment on both Earth and the lunar colonies.”

 

“Exactly. So far, it hasn’t had much of a negative impact on Peliar Zel itself, but it’s initiated global warming on Beta, and all the strange, often dangerous, weather patterns that go along with that.”

 

“So naturally, the Betans are upset by this,” says Riker, “and I’m guessing the Alphans don’t want to give up their newfound energy source.”

 

“No, they don’t, and it’s understandable why. Alpha moon is not nearly as resource rich as Beta, and survival has been more difficult for the Alphans in the past. Moreover, while Peliar Zel itself is a member of the Federation, the moons are not. Neither side wants to become dependent on the Federation for their survival. Instead, they’ve resorted to sabotaging each other’s infrastructure and attacking any ship that tries to get into the other moon’s orbit.”

 

The whole room goes quiet for a moment. The situation sounds dangerously familiar; no doubt the fate of Turkana IV looms large in all their minds. Deanna thinks especially of Tasha and all the horrors she faced growing up on that war-torn planet. She can feel the pang of her sadness echoed all around her by her fellow officers. Tasha meant – still means – a lot to them all.

 

Picard speaks for everyone when he asks, “What can we do to help?”

 

“Governor Leka of Peliar Zel has sent me an extensive information file already, and, thanks to my father, I’m extremely well versed on the history, language, and customs of both groups. However, I am the first to admit that my scientific skills are weak at best. What I need are climate predictions for Beta Moon, the medical impact of those climate changes, ways to possibly modify the Alphan’s system of energy production…” he expands his hands out towards the group in a beseeching manner. “I need as much information at my disposal as possible. Any suggestions or ideas are more than welcome. I’ve learned that often the solution is staring you right in the face, but you won’t see it until someone else points it out. This crew consists of the best people Starfleet has to offer. Together, I’m certain we can find an answer that both sides will agree to.”

 

Picard looks around at his crew. “Make these peace talks your number one priority in the coming days. We will reach Peliar Zel in about two week’s time. Provide the Ambassador with whatever services we can provide. I’m certain I do not need to stress the importance of this mission to any of you.” He stands, tugs on the bottom of his shirt decisively and adds, “Dismissed.”

 

They all stand. Worf, who is on duty still, reports back to his station. Everyone else stays a while, discussing the situation. Deanna, as she often does after such a meeting, takes a step back to get a read on the room. They’re all worried, of course, but determined as well. Their task is daunting, but they’ve faced worse together. Geordi and Data are already engaged in a detailed discussion of methods for tapping into a planet’s magnetic field that she couldn’t possibly follow. Will pulls out a PADD, asking Odan clarify something or another on the screen, she can’t quite catch what. Whatever it is, Odan answers it to Will’s satisfaction and Will brings it over to Picard to see.

 

Odan then makes his way over to Beverly, who is about to head out the door. Despite the seriousness of the circumstances, her stomach flutters a bit at the touch of his hand on her arm. She’s excited, yet also more than a little alarmed. Deanna hasn’t seen her react like this to someone in, well, a while. “Pardon me, Doctor, but I was wondering if you were available?” A pause as he realizes how that came out. “What I mean is, I need someone to show me around the ship.”

 

Beverly draws herself up and pulls her arm away. “I’m sorry, I was just about to head to sickbay, to update my staff. We have a lot of work ahead of us.”

 

He nods graciously, though he is somewhat stung by her refusal. “Of course.”

 

Deanna can sense the guilt beneath her friend’s brusque attitude as Beverly responds, “I’m sure someone else will be happy to give you a tour. It was nice meeting you, Ambassador.”   


“And you, Doctor Crusher.”

 

Beverly gives him a quick, strained smile before exiting, leaving him looking a little bewildered as he stares at the closing doors. Deanna approaches him. “Don’t worry.” He starts at the sound of her voice and turns around. “She’ll warm up to you. Just give her some time. She’s feeling a little stressed.”

 

“Understandably. It’s a lot of information to take in.”

 

Deanna nods. “If you like, I have a little time before my next appointment. I can give you a quick tour of the ship.”

 

“That would be lovely, thank you. Do you think the Captain would like to join us?”

 

“I’ll find out.”

 

Picard readily agrees, and this time, Deanna is mostly quiet, watching the two men interact as they walk through the _Enterprise_ ’s corridors. Both are very much in their element here and while his guard is down, Deanna tries to get a better emotional reading on Odan. There is something so odd about him and it is niggling at her like a Ferengi ear mite. She _likes_ him well enough, that is not the problem. It’s not even that she finds him untrustworthy. No, she has to admit to herself, the problem is her own inherent Betazoid curiosity getting the better of her. She takes a deep breath. Just let it go. There’s something to be said for the human way of getting to know someone.

 


	2. Chapter 2

By the time Will finally walks into Ten Forward, Deanna’s been waiting at a table near the bar for a quite a while, nursing her drink, absorbing everything that’s going on around her, and thinking about the past couple of weeks since Odan arrived. It’s been busy, as all the senior staff has been working overtime to help the Ambassador… not that that’s stopped he and Beverly from getting to know one another better. A lot better, from what Deanna has seen, their attempts at hiding their relationship notwithstanding.

 

Will slides into the seat across from her, exhausted. Without saying a word, she passes her drink over to him. Gratefully, he takes a sip before trying to give it back to her. She waves a hand dismissively. There’s more where that came from.

 

“Sorry I’m late,” he says.

 

“That’s alright. I was just enjoying some people-watching.”

 

“Oh?” Will raises an amused eyebrow and grins. “Anything interesting I ought to know about?”

 

“Things have been pretty quiet. Though that table of ensigns over there got awfully nervous when you came in.”

 

Will glances over at the table she indicated and chuckles. “That would be because I caught them in the middle of a prank war spanning a good portion of Deck Nine.”

 

Deanna, feigning shock, gasps. “Really? How did I not hear about this?”

 

“For the most part, they were being pretty careful, keeping it confined to their personal quarters. And then today Gibson got a little carried away with the whipped cream.”

 

Deanna laughs. “I believe they’re whispering about us now. Probably wondering what you’re telling me.”

 

Will turns and stares at them in a most severe manner. They all immediately stop talking and straighten up, guilt written all over their faces. Deanna bites her lower lip to keep from grinning. When Will turns back around she tells him, “You’re a terrible person, do you know that?”

 

He shrugs good-naturedly. “So I’ve heard. They really did pull some clever pranks. I wish _I_ had thought things like that back when I was in the Academy.”

 

He starts to describe a couple of the pranks, but Deanna is soon distracted by the arrival of Beverly and Odan across the room. Still nervous to be seen as “together,” the two walk conspicuously far apart as they make their way to an isolated table in the corner. Beverly’s carrying a PADD, as if they were merely meeting here for work.

 

Will stops in the midst of his story, noticing Deanna’s distraction. “Deanna? Is something wrong?”

 

Still staring at her friend and the Ambassador, Deanna shakes her head and smiles. “Quite the opposite.” She tilts her head in their direction. The two are leaning towards each other over the table, the PADD lying between them, utterly ignored. Beverly’s practically _glowing_ with happiness as she lays a cautious hand on Odan’s forearm.

 

“Ahh,” says Will with a smile, turning briefly to look at the pair. “Our good doctor and the ambassador. I can’t say I would have predicted that, the first day he arrived.”

 

“He’s good for her, I think. She’s usually so reserved, so careful with her feelings when it comes to romance, but with him she’s much more open.” Beverly laughs at something Odan says and tucks her hair behind one ear, like a bashful schoolgirl on her first date.

 

Will nods. “I know what you mean. I don’t have to be an empath to see how happy she is around him.”

 

“The funny part is, she thinks she’s hiding it so well. I talked to her about it earlier today – at the spa, of all places!”

 

Will’s eyebrows shoot up. “The _spa_? Beverly?”

 

“Mmm-hmm. It was adorable.”

 

“Well, good for her!” Will grins. At that moment, Odan leaves the table. On his way to the bar, he stops to greet Will and Deanna with an easy, slightly lopsided smile.

 

“Counselor, Commander. I trust you are doing well this fine evening?”

 

“Quite well, Ambassador, thank you for asking. In fact–” he gives Deanna a sly look. Oh no. “We were just wondering if you and Beverly would like to join us for a few drinks.”

 

Deanna feels Odan’s surprise at the offer, as well as his gratification. “I would love to. Let me talk to her first, though.”

 

“Of course. We wouldn’t want to … interrupt anything.”

 

Deanna is shooting Will daggers but he cheerfully ignores her.

 

Odan smiles and excuses himself. “Will!” Deanna hisses, hoping Odan doesn’t hear as he walks away.

 

“What? I just want to get to know our esteemed guest a little better.”

 

Deanna leans back in her chair and crosses her arms with a huff. “You’re as bad as my mother.”

 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

 

Odan returns with Beverly who shoots Deanna a questioning look. Deanna shrugs helplessly and glances towards Will, which seems to be all the explanation Beverly needs, since she rolls her eyes in response. She’s not really all that annoyed, though, Deanna can sense. Just slightly embarrassed. Already Will is peppering Odan with questions about the Trill homeworld, as it is rare for off-worlders to be granted access to the planet by the Trill government. No one knows exactly why this is the case, except that the Trill have always been a rather secretive race. Neither Will nor Deanna nor Beverly have ever been there, though Deanna has been in orbit and seen the purple tinted oceans Odan is now describing. As he talks, his manner is calculatedly casual. The other two show no signs of picking up on his underlying cautiousness.

 

“I’ve already told him he should get special dispensation for the _Enterprise_ to visit,” Beverly archly explains to Deanna and Will.

 

“I would love for you to see Trill,” Odan says. Though he addresses this to all three of them, his thoughts rest solely on Beverly. Deanna is startled to realize how truly strong his attachment to Beverly is, in spite of … whatever it is that is telling him he should feel otherwise. For the first time, it occurs to Deanna that this affair could be leading to something more enduring. She looks at Beverly. She wouldn’t leave again. Would she?

 

With regret, and a hint of anger, he continues, “However I think it would take more than just my influence to convince my government to let you all onto the planet. Certain individuals perhaps,” here he again glances at Beverly, “but not the entire crew.”

 

Will leans forward and rubs his chin thoughtfully. “I take it you don’t agree with your government’s stance on outsiders.”

 

Odan shakes his head emphatically. “Not at all. They think they are protecting us, but all they are doing is stifling our growth. I wholeheartedly agree with the Federation on the value of cultural exchange; it’s why I became an ambassador.  That and I thought maybe I could change my own people’s attitudes, but…”

 

“Once an idea gets firmly rooted into a society, it’s difficult to change it,” inserts Deanna helpfully.

 

“Exactly. This has been the Trill way for centuries. I have hope though, that things will change in my lifetime. There is already a significant portion of the population who feel as I do.”

 

Ben, one of the waiters, stops by at that moment and smiles brightly at the group. “Pardon me, folks, I couldn’t help but notice … one drink for four people hardly seems sufficient.”

 

They all look at the abandoned and mostly empty glass next to Will, and Odan laughs. “We completely forgot. I’ll have an Andorian ale, if you don’t mind.”

 

“I’ll have the same,” says Beverly.

 

Interesting. Not her usual pick of drinks.

 

“Saurian brandy for me,” says Will.

 

Ben nods after each order and looks at Deanna. She grins, “Do you even have to ask?”

 

Ben laughs. “You got it, ma’am. One grasshopper. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

 

Their discussion drifts to less serious topics, with Deanna prompting Will to continue his story about the ensigns’ prank war, which inevitably leads to them all swapping stories of their own moments of delinquency. Will and Beverly both easily top anything Odan and Deanna did, though, so the conversation quickly turns into a friendly competition between the doctor and the first officer. In the midst of their sibling-like squabbling, Odan leans over and murmurs to Deanna, “I had no idea Beverly was once such a rebel.”

 

“Is it really that much of a surprise?”

 

For a moment, he studies Beverly, her hands flying everywhere and a mischievous smirk on her face. “No,” he concedes fondly, “I suppose not.”

 

“What are you two whispering about over there, hmm?” Will suddenly asks.

 

“How glad we are we weren’t your roommates at the Academy,” says Deanna dryly.

 

“Well, I never!” says Beverly in mock-indignation. “ _I_ was a perfectly lovely roommate. He’s the one you have to watch out for.”

 

“It’s true,” says Will, “I was awful. How I ever made command is a mystery to everyone.”

 

When their laughter dies down, Odan pushes his seat away from the table and stands. “I’m afraid I must be heading back to my quarters soon. We’ll be at Peliar Zel soon and I want to get some rest before I leave.” The reminder of the task that lies ahead tomorrow quickly sobers them all. Deanna feels Beverly’s momentarily forgotten anxiety bubble to the surface again.

 

“Are you _sure_ I can’t convince you to use the transporter tomorrow? You heard what Governor Leka said. It would be much safer,” she asks, not bothering to try to hide the deep concern in her voice.

 

“I’ll be fine. I fully trust Commander Riker to get me safely through.”

 

When both women turn and look at Will in surprise, he explains, “I offered to pilot the Ambassador’s shuttle. Captain Picard already approved it. Which means,” he stands, “I should be getting back to my quarters as well.”

 

“Well, I hope you’ll _both_ be careful tomorrow,” says Deanna as she and Beverly get up to leave too.

 

“We will, I promise,” he says before bidding them all good night. Once Will leaves, Odan holds out one hand to Beverly, who hesitates only slightly before taking it, stepping in closer to him as she does. With the uncertainty of what tomorrow might bring, Deanna supposes that at this moment, Beverly no longer cares who sees.

 

“I don’t know if I’ll get a chance to see you before you leave tomorrow, so I’ll wish you good luck now,” Deanna tells Odan.

 

“You all have helped me tremendously to prepare. I have every confidence we will find a solution. Thank you, Counselor.”

 

Deanna crinkles her nose with amusement. “I think we’re past the ‘Counselor’ point, don’t you? Please, call me Deanna.” Beverly is pleased at this development, giving Deanna a small smile. Deanna returns the smile and adds, “Besides, I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other in the future…” 


	3. Chapter 3

 

Through the viewscreen on the bridge, the Ambassador’s shuttlecraft can be seen, hovering just outside the range of the defensive shields surrounding the moons of Peliar Zel.

 

“Awaiting your orders to proceed, Captain,” says Will over the com.

 

“Mr. Data, are there any ships in the area?”

 

“Our scanners cannot penetrate the force field, sir.”

 

Picard looks questioningly at Deanna. She tilts her head slightly, all her attention already focused on looking for Peliari ships. Faintly, she is able to detect some life signs beyond the Ambassador’s shuttle. Given the size of a typical Peliari orbital or scout ship, she quickly estimates the number of ships needed to carry those individuals. “There are about four or five ships waiting for the shuttle once they get past the shields. As to their intent, I cannot tell from this distance.”

 

“Did you hear that, Number One?” Picard asks Will.

 

“Yes, sir. I’m trying to hail them now… no answer.”

 

Picard’s mouth forms a grim line as he momentarily debates over what to do. “Commander, proceed, but with extreme caution. At the first sign of trouble, I want you both out of there.”

 

“Understood. Riker out.”

 

The com goes silent and they wait, watching the shuttle’s movements onscreen. At first, nothing happens as the shuttle crosses the shields, and Deanna lets out the breath she was unconsciously holding. Maybe those ships were just –

 

Suddenly, there is a flash of light on the viewscreen and four ships, slightly larger than the shuttlecraft, come into view. Will veers off course, back the way he came, ending up outside the defense shield once again. His voice is immediately on the com. “Captain, we’ve been hit! The starboard nacelle is – ” He is interrupted by the sound of an explosion and they can hear some shouting.

 

“Riker! Report!”

 

“The Ambassador has been injured… requesting transport.” They can hear muffled sounds of protest from Odan. Deanna and Picard exchange looks of disbelief. Surely, in this situation, even Odan can see the benefit of transporters. Riker swears under his breath before saying, “Belay that, Captain, I’m going to try to bring the shuttle in.”

 

Before Picard can order him to do otherwise, the shuttle is hit again. Deanna feels it this time, her emotional connection to Will broadcasting his pain to her, and she gasps. “Will’s hurt!”

 

Picard immediately taps his combadge. “Bridge to transporter room one. We need an emergency transport to sickbay for Commander Riker and Ambassador Odan.”

 

“Aye, aye sir. I’ve got a transporter lock on them now.”

 

“Good. Bridge to sickbay! The shuttlecraft has been hit. We’re transferring the Ambassador and Commander Riker directly to you.”

 

“Yes, sir, we’re ready.” Surprisingly, it’s Nurse Ogawa who answers, not Beverly. A moment later, she says, “We’ve got them, sir.”

 

“What’s their status?”

 

There is a long pause before Ogawa responds, the hesitation in her voice quite evident to everyone. “Commander Riker was knocked out but he will recover. As for the Ambassador… Captain, I think it would be best if you saw for yourself.”

 

“Nurse? Is everything alright?”

 

Another pause. “No, Captain. Please, come quickly.”

 

“I’m on my way.” Picard nods at Data. “Mr. Data, you have the bridge. Counselor, you’re with me.”

 

Neither of them speak on their way to sickbay, both equally consumed by their own thoughts. Deanna’s mind first seeks out Will’s, in order to reassure herself that he really is alright. He’s still unconscious but in no pain. Next, she moves on to Odan, but his panic is too overwhelming and she has to draw away her focus on him. Instead, she turns to Beverly, who, while still maintaining that amazingly calm concentration she has whenever she’s working with a patient, is completely baffled by whatever it is she’s seeing. Something very odd is going on here.

 

When they reach sickbay, Picard marches right in. Ogawa is waiting for them, steeling herself to confront the captain. “Captain–”

 

“Nurse, where is Dr. Crusher?”

 

“She’s with… Odan.” Deanna tilts her head slightly at Ogawa’s response. She very deliberately did not refer to him as Ambassador. Ogawa continues, “Before you go in, I feel I should warn you –”

 

Suddenly, Beverly comes in, laying one hand on Ogawa’s shoulder briefly. “It’s alright, Alyssa. It’s over.”

 

Ogawa looks up at Beverly, eyes wide. “Neren?”

 

A stiff shake of the head. “He’s gone,” Beverly says, in a flat tone, though Deanna can tell her emotions are running wild.

 

“I’m sorry,” says Ogawa.

 

Beverly flashes her a quick, tight-lipped smile in thanks. “Please send Neren’s body down to the morgue and keep monitoring both Odan and Commander Riker’s vital signs. I’ll explain the rest here.” With a nod, Ogawa leaves.

 

“Doctor, I don’t understand,” Picard says with a frown and confusion that matches Deanna’s own, “Did the Ambassador …?”

 

“Yes, and no. It seems we have finally discovered what the Trill have been hiding from outsiders all these years: they’re in fact not one, but two species, living in symbiosis with one another. Odan is a sentient symbiont, hosted by the humanoid Neren.”

 

“What? How is that – ” Deanna starts, then realizes, “That’s why he was so against using the transporters! Neren didn’t want us to know about Odan!”

 

Beverly nods. “Exactly. The transporter immediately indicated the presence of a parasite, but it could not remove it through normal decontamination procedures. I was prepared to remove it myself, but fortunately, Neren was still conscious enough to stop me.” She pauses and takes a deep breath, trying to keep herself together.

 

“Take your time,” says Picard soothingly.

 

“I’m fine.” That’s a lie, but one Deanna is willing to let Beverly get away with at the moment. “We need to contact Trill immediately. Preliminary scans indicate that the symbiont is unlikely to survive outside a host for more than a couple of hours.”

 

“But we’re weeks away from Trill out here.”

 

“I know. Hopefully there is an available host on a ship nearby or I don’t…” Beverly stops, then, her shoulders sagging, nearly whispers the next part, “I don’t know what to do.”

 

Picard’s heart aches in sympathy with Beverly as he reaches out and rubs one of her upper arms comfortingly. “We’ll find a solution, I’m sure of it.” Beverly doesn’t say anything, just gives his hand a grateful pat. “I need to get back to the bridge. Will you be alright?”

 

Beverly nods and Deanna adds, “I’ll stay with her.”

 

“Very well. I will let you know as soon as we have contacted the Trill.”

 

“I would like to talk to them myself, if I can. This should not have happened. It could have been prevented, if he could have just used the transporter in the first place. They better have a damn good explanation for all of this!”

 

“Believe me, I want an explanation as much as you do. This could derail the Peliari peace talks entirely.”

 

Beverly’s eyes flash dangerously. “We should care about his life whether or not he’s an ambassador!”

 

Picard stiffens, but his voice remains calm. “Doctor, saving Odan’s life is absolutely a priority, no matter his position. But, there are potentially millions of lives at stake here. I cannot forget my duty to them, and neither should you. If you do not feel that you can deal with this objectively-”

 

“No!” Beverly frowns, then straightens her shoulders. “What I mean, Captain, is that I understand and I apologize for my outburst. It won’t happen again.”

 

“Good.” Picard’s expression softens. He never has been very good at maintaining any sort of sternness with Beverly. “Let me know if there is any change in either Riker or the Ambassador’s condition.” He nods stiffly to each of them in turn before leaving.

 

Once he’s gone, Deanna gives Beverly a significant look. Beverly crosses her arms. “Deanna, I told you, I’m fine.”

 

Deanna raises an eyebrow and points to herself. “Betazoid, remember? You can’t lie to me.”

 

Beverly purses her lips in frustration. “I can try.”

 

Deanna can’t help but smirk a little at that. “You can, but you’ve never been very good at it.”

 

Beverly sighs. “You’re lucky I like you so much.”

 

“I know.” Her expression becomes serious again. “If you don’t want to talk about it now, we don’t have to, but please promise me you will talk about it? With someone, even if it’s not me?”

 

“I promise.” Suddenly feeling a little guilty, she asks, “Do you want to see Will? I should have asked earlier.”

 

“I would, yes.” She doesn’t begrudge Beverly for not taking her to see him earlier, seeing how much is on the doctor’s mind right now. Besides, Deanna’s been surreptitiously checking up on him the whole time, and knows he’s still resting peacefully. Nevertheless, it will comfort her to see him in person. While she goes to Will, Beverly goes to Odan.


	4. Chapter 4

 

When Deanna rejoins Beverly in the surgical suite, Beverly is resting her chin on folded arms and staring mournfully at Odan in his jar next to her on the table. Deanna sits down across from her and waits for Beverly to speak first. Beverly’s gaze remains fixed on Odan when she eventually asks, “How… can you tell how he’s feeling?” Gently, she taps the glass with one finger.

 

Deanna nods, albeit slowly and with a bit of uncertainty. Even without Neren, Odan is still more difficult to read than most people. Two emotions are clear enough, however. “He’s scared. And lonely.”

 

Beverly spreads one hand helplessly against the jar. “He has no auditory or visual organs, so he probably can’t tell that we’re here.”

 

Deanna leans forward to look more closely at Odan, wondering if there is any other way to communicate him, to let him that he’s not alone.

 

The com system in the suite comes on, the video showing Picard sitting in his ready room. “Dr. Crusher, Counselor Troi?”

 

The two women stand and cross over to the computer screen. “Yes?”

 

“We have received word from Trill. A new host will arrive in roughly eighty hours.”

 

“That’s over three days! Odan will never survive that long!” exclaims Beverly.

 

“I discussed that with one of their doctors, from a group called the Symbiosis Commission. They are tasked with overseeing all matters concerning the symbionts and joining. He said that it was possible for another humanoid to serve as a host, temporarily. I’m sending the medical information to you now.”

 

“What?! We can’t order anyone to do that!”

 

After a slight hesitation, Deanna says, “But someone could volunteer.”  Logically, she knows she’s a good candidate, given her diplomatic experiences and connections. She might be able to save thousands of lives, not just Odan’s, if she can take Neren’s place at the conference. And her Betazoid heritage might make the transition easier for her than for a human host. Hopefully.

 

Beverly whips around to face Deanna. “No! Absolutely not! The risk is too great.”

 

“But if the doctor at the Commission says –”

 

“To hell with what he says!” Beverly’s flailing hands punctuate her sentences angrily. “They have been keeping the symbionts a secret from the Federation for centuries! How can we trust what they’re telling us is true? They can’t make you trade your life for Odan’s!”

 

“No one’s forcing me to do this, Beverly! It’s my choice!” Deanna exclaims. They glare at each other for a moment before Picard coughs awkwardly.

 

“And you!” Beverly rounds on him now. “Why didn’t you let me speak with this doctor?”

 

“Believe me, I tried. The Trill are not very inclined to talk. I was sent through a lengthy series of bureaucratic channels and officials in various states of barely-concealed panic before I was finally allowed to speak with the Commission doctor. Even then, he barely gave me any information and kept insisting that he wasn’t authorized to discuss this with anyone other than myself.”

 

“So they just expect me to perform this surgery on nothing but their word that it will work?”

 

“I understand your frustration, Doctor, I really do. And I will not order you,” here he looks at Deanna as well, “Either of you, to do this. However, should you decide to go through with the surgery, you have my support.”

 

“Perhaps give us a little time to discuss it,” says Deanna.

 

“Of course. Picard out.”

 

The screen goes blank and Beverly starts pacing in angry silence. It’s an anger stemming from Beverly’s long-held, and completely understandable, fear of losing the people around her. She has been getting better about it but. But, but, but. Deanna crosses over to her friend and clasps her by the shoulders. Beverly stares at her, brow furrowed.

 

“I can’t lose both of you. If we do this, we have no idea what will happen.”

 

“You’re right. We don’t know. But Odan needs us. The Peliari need Odan.” Deanna thinks of Turkana, of Tasha. She cannot stand by and let that happen to anyone else. “And I need you. You’re the best surgeon in the fleet, probably in the whole quadrant. If anyone can do this, it’s you. I trust you with my life.”

 

Beverly offers her a half smile, even if she is still upset. “‘Probably’ the best surgeon in the whole quadrant?”

 

“Definitely the best. In the whole galaxy even.”

 

Beverly’s smile fades and her voice cracks dangerously as she says, “I’m scared, Deanna. Terrified.”

 

“I know. I am too.”

 

After a tense moment, Beverly breaks their gaze and returns her attention to Odan. She’s debating with herself. Deanna lets her go, quietly watching and gauging her emotional reactions. Ultimately, one of the other doctors on board would be capable of performing the operation instead, but Deanna knows Beverly too well. She’ll hate herself if something happens to either Odan or Deanna under her care, yet she’d rather hate herself than someone else for that.

 

Odan pulses quietly in his jar, waiting, longing, dying. Deanna suppresses a shudder. To lose most of your senses and to die alone in the dark… she can think of few worse fates. It reminds her too much of how lost she felt when her empathic senses were taken from her. On impulse, she crosses over to the table and opens the jar, taking Odan out.

 

“What are you doing?!”

 

Deanna doesn’t answer, just watches as she cradles Odan in her palms. He’s immediately calmer, the physical contact with her a reassurance that someone is with him. She suspects he even knows who is with him. Trill symbionts must rely heavily on their sense of touch to interpret the world. An electric shock goes through her and she jumps slightly.

 

“Deanna!” Beverly reaches out to her in alarm.

 

“No, wait,” Another shock. And another, longer this time. “I think… yes!” She looks up at Beverly, eyes wide with amazement, as the small shocks continue. “He’s trying to communicate with me.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“He’s using his electric impulses – it’s Morse Code, I believe.” A small smile is on her lips as she calculates the series of dashes and dots Odan is producing. She hasn’t used Morse Code in a long time, though it’s something taught to all Starfleet Cadets, just in case. She’s impressed that he knows it at all, seeing as it is of Terran origins. Fortunately, Odan’s message is short and simple. “He says, ‘Thank you.’”

 

Deanna holds out Odan to Beverly, offering for her to hold him. It would comfort him even more to know Beverly was there, too. Beverly, taking a step back, shakes her head. “I can’t. No… not right now.” She looks from Deanna’s hands to the jar, a subtle hint.

 

Deanna doesn’t push Beverly, but she doesn’t put Odan back in the jar, either. Her own fears have mostly dissipated with a sudden overwhelming certainty that this is how it must be. They must be joined. Briefly, she wonders if this is part of some sort of evolutionary survival tactic on the part of the symbiont. Perhaps he’s released some sort of pheromones. Not that it matters. She’s going to do it, either way.

 

“I know that look,” Beverly says, in a defeated voice. “There’s no arguing you out of doing this, is there?”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“No, you’re right,” She takes a deep breath, “I’ll … I’ll perform the surgery. I’ve wasted enough time as it is. Time that isn’t mine to waste.”

 

“Don’t say that. This was a hard decision to make. You needed time. Odan would understand.” She carefully puts Odan back in the jar, ignoring, with great difficulty, his emotional protest.

 

“Deanna… if this doesn’t work… if you don’t – ” Deanna suddenly envelops Beverly into a hug, which Beverly gratefully returns. She laughs sadly and says, “Didn’t I tell you to quit being so empathic?”

 

“Everything’s going to be all right. You’ll see.”


	5. Chapter 5

 

The first thing Deanna becomes aware of is the multitude of voices, crowding out her own, followed by a surge of competing emotions that she struggles to make sense of. She has no idea who any of them are. Dimly, she knows who and where she is, and why, but she cannot concentrate, so the knowledge keeps slipping out of her grasp. When the coldness of the hypospray hits her neck, she’s not the one in control.

 

Odan is.

 

It’s Odan who opens up her – their – eyes. Nurse Ogawa leans over them, gently mopping their forehead with a sponge. Hot, it’s so hot in here.

 

“Deanna? It’s Beverly. Can you hear me?”

 

They focus on that voice, that familiar, soothing. Nothing else matters. They’re safe now. Beverly comes into view and Deanna nearly gasps. She knew her friend was beautiful, of course, but not like this. This was entirely different, looking at Beverly with new eyes, a new set of feelings.

 

 _Not friend. Lover_ , says Neren, the first voice that Deanna can clearly identify. Suddenly, she realizes who all the voices belong to: all of Odan’s previous hosts. It explains why she had such trouble reading him before. She wasn’t reading the emotions of only one individual, or even two, but … six! There are six voices here with her. Odan smiles for them all and says, “Hello.”

 

Beverly rests one hand lightly on their shoulder and returns the smile. “The surgery was successful. How are you feeling?” The relief emanating from Beverly warms them, makes Odan bold.

 

Odan weakly reaches for her wrist and kisses the inside of it. “I’m fine, thanks to you, Doctor Beverly.”

 

Beverly pulls her hand away and takes a step back, staring. _Now you’ve done it_ , says a different voice, that of a woman Deanna doesn't recognize. Neren should have never been joined in the first place. He was too unconventional, too impulsive, too idealistic, and now look at them. She ignores the voice, Beverly’s alarm giving her the strength to pull out of her haze. “I’m sorry, Beverly… I … we… shouldn’t have…” Deanna resists reaching out towards Beverly again, unsure if the impulse belongs to her or Neren or Odan.

 

“You need rest,” Beverly says stiffly, in a vain attempt to conceal her feelings. However, she might as well be shouting, the way Deanna is being bombarded by her emotional pain. Deanna’s never experienced this with Beverly before. Being with Beverly is usually so safe, so calming, so comfortable. Without warning, Deanna begins to cry. It shocks her as much as it does Beverly, who carefully searches Deanna’s face as she reaches for a hypospray.

 

“Deanna, I’m going to give you a sedative, all right?” _Odan. My name is Odan, my love_.

 

Deanna shakes her head multiple times, not trusting her voice to work properly at the moment. She looks up at the ceiling and futilely tries to blink back the tears. Nothing is right, she shouldn’t have done this. Odan should have warned them, what it would be like. _I didn’t have time, we were dying. Joining is never easy_. It’s never been this hard either. _No, it hasn’t. But I can feel your strength._ Despite her not being a Trill, he’s completely unsurprised by this. After all, she’s the daughter of Lwaxana Troi.

 

Suddenly, their initial conversation together becomes clear to Deanna. Lwaxana knew. She knew what and who Odan was, and she never breathed a word of it to anyone. She protected him, but he wasn’t certain at first that Deanna would do the same. Now that the truth about the Trill is finally known, he feels that a great weight has been lifted. The Symbiosis Commission can’t hide this anymore, not after today.

 

“Please,” whispers Beverly, leaning over them. Images from the previous night flood Deanna’s mind. Her thumb brushing across Beverly’s lips, Beverly’s laugh, the way her hips move –

 

“Dr. Selar,” murmurs Deanna. Sensing Beverly’s frightened concern at being called the wrong name, Deanna quickly goes on to explain herself, “I want to see Dr. Selar. I think … meditation…” It’s still difficult to concentrate on speaking. She takes a deep breath to calm herself. “I’m having trouble … focusing. I believe… Dr. Selar can help.”

 

Beverly, still uncertain and a bit wary, nods. She taps her combadge and calls Selar, who answers almost immediately and agrees to come to sickbay. While they wait, Beverly runs another scan with the tricorder and Ogawa helps Deanna into a semi-sitting position by tilting up the biobed. Beverly relays the readings from the tricorder. “All your vitals are stable. How are you feeling temperature wise?”

 

“Better.” Normally, she's the one who is always so cold. This warmth is strange.

 

Beverly nods curtly. She may be concerned about them, but she’s still uncomfortable. Deanna can tell she wants to leave as soon as possible. We can’t let her. “Beverly…you look tired. When Dr. Selar gets here…” Deanna trails off, not wanting to tell her she can leave. All she wants is for Beverly to stay with her forever. The intensity of that desire scares her.

 

“Dr. Crusher. How may I be of assistance?” Dr. Selar’s calm, rational voice steadies Deanna, who answers for Beverly.

 

"I asked her to call you." Pushing down on the biobed, she struggles to sit up straighter. Ogawa helpfully piles some pillows behind her for support. "The Trill. They’re more complicated than we initially thought. Odan remembers - I remember - every previous host. Their thoughts, their emotions. Normally, the host is extensively trained for joining but I... I am overwhelmed." She sighs with the effort of speaking and allows herself to lean back on the pillows. She would never admit it to anyone here, but she is embarrassed. A Betazoid should have the mental wherewithal to handle this situation. A full blooded one would. Unsuitable, just like Neren.

 

"I see," says Selar. "And you believe meditation would help."

 

"Yes."

 

"It is possible, though I have never taken on a Betazoid pupil before." And she doesn't particularly want to, Deanna senses. In truth, Betazoids and Vulcans have much in common, but their divergent philosophies have fostered an uneasy relationship between the two species. Vulcans view Betazoids as intrusive and unpredictable, while Betazoids see Vulcans as emotionally stunted and uptight. And neither of them are exactly wrong, are they? She’s surprised by a memory of her mother that cannot be hers because Lwaxana is too young, only an attaché, arguing with Ambassador Sarek. It must belong to Jobel, the man who Neren pretended was his father, the former Ambassador Odan.

 

Deanna pushes that memory away. Despite their species' attitudes, Deanna and Selar have always gotten along well, but this is something different. It will require a certain level of intimacy, beyond their usual professional relationship.

 

Selar continues. "However, you are a valued member of this crew, Counselor, and Ambassador Odan must complete the peace talks if we are to avert a civil war. It is only logical that I attempt to teach you our methods."

 

"Thank you, Doctor. We’re ready t-"

 

An irritated Beverly interrupts, “Oh no, you don’t. Rest first. Your body is still healing.”

 

“But-”

 

“Dr. Crusher is correct. Your mind will be more receptive once your body has had time to recover. In the meantime, I will prepare an appropriate holodeck program for our session. Meet me in holodeck three tomorrow morning at 0700 hours.” She nods at Beverly. “Sir.”

 

“You’re dismissed, Doctor.”  Selar turns smartly on her heel and exits the sickbay. Beverly turns to Ogawa. “Nurse, administer the hypospray. I’ll be in my office.” Before she leaves, she permits herself a small glance back at Deanna.

 

They all wish she hadn’t.


	6. Chapter 6

The small flame of the meditation lamp flickers tauntingly before her. They’ve been at this for what feels like hours and Deanna’s mind isn’t any clearer. She’s simultaneously pining after Beverly while going over lists of things to remember for the peace talks – names of important leaders and their kids’ birthdays and weather data for the moons and projected growth statistics, on and on – all while continuing to doubt her ability to pull this off. Correction: Zoria continues to doubt her ability to pull this off. How Odan was ever hosted by such a stuffy woman is beyond her. Neren, it was Neren who changed us. Of course.

 

“Your mind is unfocused,” comments Selar.

 

“I know that!” Deanna snaps. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

 

“Indulging in your emotions will not help you concentrate, Counselor.”

 

“Pointing out the obvious won’t either!”

 

Selar merely raises an eyebrow. Deanna squashes the urge to rip it off. It’s not the doctor’s fault.

 

“I’m sorry.” She rubs her eyes with the heels of her hands. “I’m just so frustrated.”

 

Selar unfolds herself from her cross-legged position and stands. “When I was a child, I too struggled with meditation. Instead of finding stability and tranquility in my environment, I was distracted by it. Olfactory stimuli, in particular, were difficult to ignore. My mother discovered I performed more satisfactorily when engaged in physical activity. You are, I believe, practiced in the Klingon art of Mok’bara?”

 

Deanna is surprised. A Vulcan suggesting the use of a Klingon martial art to help clear the mind? “Yes, I take classes with Worf.”

 

“Good. That should be suitable enough for our needs. Computer, end program. Initiate program Selar Delta-Five-Three.” The geometrically decorated Vulcan living quarters disappear to be replaced by a Japanese rock garden. The sky is overcast and there is the slightest of breezes, providing a welcome cooling relief to Deanna.

 

In response to Deanna’s unasked question Selar adds, “I have found that many Terran cultures have meditative practices similar to those of Vulcan. I thought perhaps maybe a change of scenery would help. You are welcome to use this program in the future if the setting suits you.”

 

“Thank you,” says Deanna, a little bemused. She was previously unaware of how much Selar incorporated other cultural practices into her daily life. Granted, they rarely interact with one another outside of their official duties, so there is no reason Deanna would know.

 

“You are welcome. Are you ready to begin?”

 

Deanna nods and assumes the appropriate beginning stance: one foot in front of the other, knees and arms slightly bent, and hands in loose fists. Selar examines Deanna’s stance with a critical eye.

 

“Your form is excellent. Commander Worf is a skilled instructor.”

 

Deanna glances over at her and smiles. “I’ll be sure to tell him you said so.”

 

“Eyes forward, Counselor. Now, slowly transition into the Fourth Stance.”

 

“Fourth?”

 

“That is correct.” Deanna shrugs and does as Selar says, shifting her weight back and moving one hand in front of her face in a defensive position. “Slower… this is not in preparation for combat. Good. Now, close your eyes and focus only on your hand in front of you. Feel its shape, its warmth, the air flowing between your fingers. Picture your hand in your mind.”

 

Deanna pictures small, delicate hands, covered in ink and cramped from writing too long. Sun-tanned hands, with large knuckles and blunted nails. Withered, arthritic hands that struggle to button the front of her shirt. Impossibly smooth hands bearing large, proud rings. She pictures Neren’s hands, handing Beverly a rose for the last time.

 

“Focus. Your heart rate has gone up.” That damn Vulcan hearing.

 

 _My hands_ , Deanna forcefully tells the rest of them, _not yours_. Her hand, which is here, now, in front of her, not trapped in memory. It will protect her and guide her. It has five fingers. Five long, slender fingers just like Lwaxana’s. Her nails are still perfectly manicured from being in the salon the other day with… with Beverly. Who told her that she loved her. Them. Odan.

 

She opens her eyes and drops her hand in frustration. “This is hopeless.” She isn’t entirely sure whether she’s referring the meditation or to Beverly.

 

Selar considers her intently for an awkwardly long time before finally speaking. “I shall do the movements with you.” Selar arranges herself into the first position beside her pupil. Deanna, after a slight hesitation, follows her teacher’s suit. “Listen only to my voice. Do what I tell you, and ignore everyone else.”

 

Deanna takes a deep breath. “All right.”

 

“Second Stance. Tell me your name.”

 

Deanna flows into the next stance and says, “I am Deanna Troi.” _I am Neren, I am Odan, I am Jobel, I am Zoria._

 

“Third Stance. What is your rank?”

 

“Lieutenant Commander. Ship’s Counselor. USS Enterprise.” _Ambassador. Civilian. Commissioner._

 

“Fourth Stance. What is your home planet?”

 

 _Trill_. “I am a Daughter of the Fifth House of Betazed.”

 

“Fifth Stance. Say it all again in your own language.”

 

Deanna pauses at that. For a brief, terrifying moment, she forgets Rixxian, remembers only the various languages of Trill. To her immense relief, however, her mother’s tongue soon asserts itself forcefully and she repeats herself. It has been a long time since she has spoken the language out loud. Feeling the words on her lips again grounds her in an unexpected way. Exhilarated, she says it again, this time in her father’s native language.

 

Selar circles in front of her and takes a jab at Deanna. Shocked, Deanna jumps back. Selar nods her approval before trying again. This time, Deanna blocks the punch more directly, as she’s been taught by Worf. They continue on in this fashion, ducking and weaving and dodging each other in a strange sort of Klingon dance. For the first time since their joining, she and Odan are one, thinking only of their next move, reveling in the contraction and extension of their muscles as they spar. Suddenly, they have Selar on the ground. Though her face remains impassive, she is greatly surprised.

 

“That was not a Mok’bara move,” says Selar.

 

Deanna, breathing heavily, pushes some loose strands of hair back from her face before reaching down to help Selar up. “It wasn’t?”

 

“No. It is not a throw from any of the martial arts that I am familiar with.”

 

“Oh,” Deanna searches her memories and almost laughs when she realizes the move belongs to Zoria. “I’m sorry.”

 

“There is no need to apologize. I am uninjured. Besides, this shows progress. Instead of allowing your previous hosts to distract you from your task, you incorporated their thoughts and skills into your own to achieve your goal more efficiently. Are you prepared to go again?”

 

Deanna grins. _We are._


	7. Chapter 7

Invigorated by their lessons with Selar, and feeling less confused, more in control, Deanna’s meeting with Governor Leka in the Captain’s ready room goes much better than they thought it would. Once she sees their medical records, the Governor readily accepts that Deanna is now joined with Odan and agrees to try to arrange a meeting with the Alphan and Betan representatives. However, almost as soon as the Governor leaves, Deanna is hit with by a wave of nausea and dizziness. She tries to take a step forward, but falls instead, only to be caught by Picard, who gently lowers her onto the nearby sofa.

 

“I’m all right,” she mumbles, “Just a little dizzy.” When did this room get so bright? She shuts her eyes against the light and rubs her temples.

 

Picard is having none of it and calls sickbay. “Bridge to Crusher.”

 

“Yes, Captain?”

 

“Counselor… Ambassador… Troi is not well. Please come see to her. We’re in my ready room.”

 

“Right away, sir.”

 

“Deanna? Is there anything I can do while we wait? Water? Tea, perhaps?”

 

Despite herself, Deanna smiles a little at that. Of course he would offer tea. She forces herself to open her eyes and look up at him. “No, thank you, but could we dim the lights?”

 

“Of course! Computer, dim lights by…” he looks at her uncertainly, “sixty percent?”

 

The ready room darkens, relieving most of the dizziness, though if she tries to move too quickly, she feels ill to her stomach. “Better.” Still, she’s worried. They’re worried. “I can’t be rejecting him. We’ve been doing so well. And I must…” Must protect him. It is easy to see now how and why the Trill have become so guarded when it comes to the symbionts. At the same time, Odan feels a similar protectiveness over her, unwilling to remain if his presence is harmful.

 

Picard misunderstands her concern. “The peace talks will go on. I will make sure of it. You have done a very brave thing here, Deanna, but you must let us know if you are feeling too ill or overwhelmed by it to continue.”

 

“I will.” Even though she tries to give him a reassuring smile, he’s still fretting in that quiet way of his. “You know, maybe some tea would be nice, now that I think about it.”

 

He jumps at having some way he can help, even a little bit. As he crosses the room to the replicator, she watches him with some curiosity. Odan and Neren are surprised by the warmth and concern he is exhibiting here. They had no idea, before. Then he had been the formidable Captain Picard, the stern epitome of a Starfleet officer. Beverly insisted he was not always so, yet it isn’t until now, when they can actually sense the affection he feels for Deanna that they really believe it. Deanna chuckles a little to herself and when Picard returns with two cups of tea – Earl Grey, naturally – he gives her a questioning look.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m laughing at myself. Or rather, at Odan. He’s still adjusting to my empathic senses. He never suspected you were such a caring person.”

 

Picard colors at that. “Oh. I see.” Before he can say anything else about it, the door chimes. “Come!”

 

Beverly enters with a medkit. She’s much more collected than she was yesterday, which is encouraging. She immediately squats down beside Deanna and asks what happened. After Deanna explains, Beverly scans her with the tricorder. “You have a slightly elevated white cell count and six-tenths of a degree of temperature. At this point, there is nothing to indicate rejection.”

 

Deanna sighs gratefully. “Good.”

 

Beverly takes another instrument out of the medkit, and flicking on a small light, uses it to examine Deanna’s eyes. “Cerebral blood flow looks normal.” She puts the instrument back in the case and studies her collection of hyposprays for a moment before picking one out. She presses it to Deanna’s neck. “This is a metabolic booster. I’ll leave you with another one to use if your symptoms get worse. Have… any of your previous hosts had similar symptoms after joining?”

 

“Not that I recall. I am fortunate in that all my previous Joinings have gone smoothly.” And then they cannot stop themselves from adding, “And I am fortunate that I now have you.”

 

Beverly, trying to ignore Odan’s comment, starts to rise, but Deanna grabs her hand. “Please, don’t go! We need to talk.”

 

Beverly stops, crouched halfway to a standing position. She stares at Deanna, the emotions she had gotten under control rumbling up to the surface again. “I don’t think now is the time.” Deanna follows her glance over to Picard, who is trying to make sense of what is happening between the two women. It only takes a moment for him to realize, however, and when he does, he emits a mixture of sympathy and envy. This is a revelation for Odan: he had no idea of Picard’s feelings towards Beverly. If he had, he would have never asked him –

 

“No, she’s right,” Picard says to Beverly. “You two should discuss … things. In any case, I have some other matters to attend to. Counselor, feel free use the room for as long as you need to recover. I’ll be on the bridge.”

 

Once he has left, Beverly sits on the sofa as well, pulling her hand from Deanna’s grasp in the process. They are silent for a long, uncomfortable minute. Finally, Beverly speaks. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

 

“I don’t know either, but I do know the silence will only injure us.”

 

“Maybe you – Neren, Odan, whoever the hell you are – should have thought of that earlier! It didn’t bother you to stay silent before. How could you not tell me what you were? Did you honestly think I would never find out?”

 

“I was going to!”

 

“When?” Beverly demands, slapping a palm on the cushion next to her. “When were you going to tell me? When you had no other choice, lying in my sickbay dying?”

 

“No! That’s not what – I know how much I’ve hurt you. I can feel it in every fiber of my being. Please believe me, how much it killed me to have to lie to you. And I couldn’t keep doing it. I wanted… he wanted you to come with us. Back to Trill.”

 

That stuns her. “What?”

 

“I was going to ask you after the summit. It hardly seemed an appropriate topic to bring up until after we knew how that went.”

 

Distressed, Beverly stares at her lap, clenching her fists. Refusing to look up at them she says, “I don’t know how to handle this. I don’t know who you are.”

 

Deanna’s hand hovers uncertainly in the air until Odan steps in, and they cup Beverly’s chin, lifting up her face to look at them. Beverly’s on the verge of tears, and seeing that, Deanna struggles to keep her own voice steady. “I don’t either. We’re still figuring that out. This is what I do know, though: Neren loved you, Odan still loves you, and Deanna… she’s in a lot of danger of falling for you too. Can you accept that? Can you accept the love we have to give?”

 

“I… don’t think I can,” Beverly whispers, casting her eyes downwards again.

 

Deanna lets go of Beverly’s face. They can feel the love Beverly has for them and it hurts to know that that love is too wrapped up in confusion and fear and anger right now to access. _How do you do this all the time?_ Odan was fascinated at first by his newfound empathic senses but now they’re proving too much for him. “You know I would never purposely do anything to hurt you, so if you want me to keep my distance, I will.”

 

Beverly’s jaw hardens. “I think that might be for the best. Dr. Selar can take over your health care until the new host arrives.” She stands and picks up her medkit, snapping it shut emphatically. Without another word, she’s gone.

 

Deanna lays out on the sofa and covers her face, feeling incredibly lost. However, she is barely given any time to wallow in self-pity. “Counselor?” It’s Picard.

 

“Captain?”

 

“The Representatives from Alpha and Beta are hailing us. Are you able to… ?”

 

“I’ll be right there.”


	8. Chapter 8

“You expect us to believe this? It’s clearly some Betan trick!”

 

Governor Leka has convinced both representatives from Peliar’s moons to at least talk to Deanna over the viewscreen on the bridge. Naturally, they are skeptical of the situation. Deanna honestly cannot blame them. Nonetheless she is getting very frustrated, since she can tell there is a good deal of posturing going on here as well. Odan reminds her to be patient. He is certain that they will come around eventually.

 

“You accuse us of trickery?! We’re not the ones who shot down the Ambassador’s shuttle in the first place!” scoffs the Betan representative, Lathal Bine.

 

“Our government had nothing to do with that!” retorts Kalin Trose, of the Alpha moon.

 

“Right, I’m sorry, those were ‘insurgents.’ Never mind that their goals just happen to align with your own.”

 

Deanna holds up her hands in a placating manner. “Gentlemen, I assure you both, this is no trick. I am Counselor Troi, yes, but I am also Ambassador Odan.” Drawing the knowledge she needs from Odan, she looks at the Betan representative first. He will be the easiest to convince. “Lathal, I believe what Kalin says. Thirty years ago, during the first peace talks, there was a plot to assassinate the Betan delegation, including your aunt. Kalin was the one who stopped it.”

 

Lathal looks surprised by this information. “This is the first time I have heard of this!”

 

“It’s true,” says Kalin, says slowly, with a suspicious glance at Deanna. Evidentially, he is reluctant to confirm what she said. “Ambassador Odan, your aunt, and I agreed it was best that no one else from Beta learn of the plot, as it would only sow more distrust between us.”

 

Deanna nods, and continues to press Lathal, “Your aunt was a formidable woman. She had high hopes for you and whether you know it or not, she loved you as the son she never had. Don’t let everything she achieved go to waste.”

 

“She… spoke of me to you?”

 

“Often. She predicted, correctly as it seems, that the conflicts between your two peoples would never be truly resolved in her lifetime. Still, she said, she did not worry because she was confident in your capabilities.”

 

Kalin waves a dismissive hand. “Bah! You are just telling him what he wants to hear! There is no proof in what you are saying.”

 

“Isn’t there? You were privy to those conversations as well, Kalin. And how would I know about the assassination attempt?”

 

Lathal looks to Kalin for confirmation, but the older man avoids eye contact. The passion and zeal of his youth has hardened into a dogmatic stubbornness. “You are Betazoid. It would be simple enough for you to read our minds.”

 

“From this distance?”

 

“You know what she says is true Kalin. You are just being an obstructionist, as usual,” says Lathal, “Ambassador Odan, the people of Beta moon accept you.” She has to wonder if he is accepting her because he actually believes her claims or if he’s accepting her to spite Kalin. Either way, that’s one side willing to work with her at least.

 

Deanna nods. “And Alpha moon?”

 

Kalin is not quick to answer, stroking his chin thoughtfully. Finally, he says, “Whether you are Odan or simply a telepath, then you know I do not relish the prospect of war, whatever my esteemed colleague may think.”

 

She nods, still not bothering to point out that she is only an empath, not a full telepath. “I do.”

 

“Nevertheless, I will not be satisfied until my medical staff has confirmed the information your doctor sent us.”

 

“I understand. You may confer with your people, but we must have your answer within eight hours.”

 

“You shall have it. Good day… Counselor.” His transmission abruptly ends.

 

Lathal shakes his head. “If only we were working with a more reasonable man. I look forward to meeting in person, Ambassador.”

 

“As do I. Until then, I wish you good luck.”

 

“Thank you, and you too.”

 

His transmission ends as well and Deanna lets her shoulders slump and turns back to Picard, who  smiles encouragingly at her. She groans, “Well, I suppose that definitely could have gone worse.”

 

“I think you did just fine, considering the circumstances.”

 

“Thank you.” She feels the dizziness threatening to return, prickling at the edges of her vision. “Permission to be dismissed?”

 

“Granted. We will contact you as soon as we receive word from Alpha.”

 

Deanna makes it back to her quarters, only to remember she left the hypospray Beverly gave her in the Captain’s ready room. Everything is spinning too much at this point, however, to retrieve it. If she can only rest for a few hours… she stumbles across the room to her bed and passes out before her head even hits the pillow.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

“Counselor Troi.”

 

Deanna abruptly sits up at the sound of … whose voice is that? Frowning, she wipes away a layer of drool that has formed at the corner of her mouth and looks around. Upon catching sight of her clock and seeing what time it is, she curses and scrambles out of bed, her hair in complete disarray and yesterday’s uniform twisted uncomfortably around her torso. She tugs at it, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism. She’s also suddenly aware of how ravenously hungry she is. Her stomach rumbles angrily in competition with her door chime. When she answers the door, she finds Dr. Selar is looming rather ominously outside, hypospray in hand. Deanna gestures for her to gome in.

 

“I apologize for the intrusion,” says Selar, “But you did not answer your com. You have been asleep for nearly twelve hours.”

 

“Alpha Moon… Kalin… he was supposed to –”

 

“Representative Kalin has agreed to let you mediate the talks. He and Representative Lathal will arrive in one hour.”

 

“One hour! That’s barely enough time for me to prepare!”

 

“I felt it was best to let you sleep for as long as possible. The symbiont is heavily draining on your body’s resources in order to survive.”

 

“Draining my … I don’t want to hurt her!”

 

The confusion of pronouns does not appear to faze Selar in the slightest. “Your concern, while understandable, is unnecessary. The Trill transport will be here tomorrow morning. No lasting damage to Counselor Troi’s body will occur in that time, though you should expect a little more weakness than usual.” She steps forward and injects Deanna with the hypospray. “This should keep your symptoms in check. I will be at the conference as well, in case of an emergency.”

 

“Thank you,” says Deanna, though she wishes it was Beverly with her instead. She rubs her still protesting stomach. “I’m starving. Is that normal?” Without waiting for an answer, she heads over to the replicator.

 

“Nothing about this situation is normal, Counselor, but it is unsurprising that you are hungry. Your body’s metabolic activity has increased dramatically.”

 

“French toast,” Deanna tells the replicator, then as an afterthought, “With strawberries. And whipped cream. And chocolate chips.”

 

The computer complies, and as Deanna takes her plate over to the table, Selar eyes her selection skeptically. Deanna pokes a fork in her direction. “Not a word.”

 

“I did not say anything.”

 

“You were thinking it.”

 

Selar does not deny this. In fact, were she any species but Vulcan, she would probably be grinning right now. She gestures towards the chair across from Deanna. “May I?”

 

“Of course! Would you like anything to drink? Or I suppose… you’ve probably already had breakfast haven’t you?”

 

“I have. However, I appreciate the offer.” A pause. “I thought maybe you would like an update on the current situation on the moons.”

 

Deanna agrees, and as she continues to eat, Selar explains that though Lathal and Kalin have both agreed to go forward with the peace conference, with Odan as mediator, both sides have mobilized troops in case the talks fail. The authorities have not been able to pinpoint who exactly shot the Ambassador’s shuttle, but whoever it was has been keeping a low profile ever since.

 

“It is Governor Leka’s belief that whoever was responsible did not intend to kill, only to deter,” says Selar.

 

“So when I died – when Neren died, they quickly went underground. Peliar Zel has been trying for years to not bring Federation attention to this issue, hoping that they could solve the problem internally, but now, there is no avoiding Federation involvement.”

 

“That is my understanding, yes.”

 

Deanna and Odan mull over this information. Whoever shot at them must have not realized they had come to Peliar Zel on the flagship of the Federation. After all, Neren had not really advertised that fact. He was insistent on using his own shuttle, rather than one of the Enterprise’s, to go to the conference, to help further establish his neutral status. And truly, he had been as impartial as anyone could be. Neither Trill nor he personally had any stake in this fight. Deanna cannot claim that same level of disinterest, though admittedly, she doesn’t feel as intensely about it as she had prior to Joining. Her conversations with Tasha seem somehow more… distant.

 

“This information troubles you,” observes Selar.

 

“Perhaps a little, but I’ve dedicated many lifetimes to helping others find solutions to seemingly insoluble problems. I have to believe an answer can be found here as well.”

 

Selar nods noncommittally and falls silent for a few minutes while Deanna makes quick work of the rest of her meal. Still not feeling satisfied, Deanna moves to the replicator to get more food. Someone, she isn’t sure who, is having an intense craving for ‘owon eggs, so she unthinkingly orders that before realizing when she sits down to take a bite that she hates them. Her thoughts may not be all her own, but her taste buds certainly are. As a compromise, she gets more strawberries. That’s something all of them can agree on. Standing at the replicator, she pops one into her mouth right when Selar decides to ask a question. “I am curious, how many lifetimes have you lived?”

 

Deanna finishes chewing before answering, “I have had five hosts prior to this one. But I’m considered relatively young, among most symbionts. We can live for centuries, provided that we are Joined.”

 

“And how long is the average life span of a Trill humanoid?”

 

“About the same as that of a Terran’s.”

 

“Fascinating. So each host directly benefits from the experiences of those who came before them, and over your lifetime you are able to gain a wide range of skills and knowledge that would otherwise be impossible for one person to achieve.”

 

Deanna smirks, “Is that a little jealousy I’m sensing there, Doctor?” Odan is amazed. It’s never occurred to him that other species would be envious of him.

 

“Vulcans do not get jealous.”

 

Deanna raises her eyebrows. Selar shifts ever so slightly in her seat. For whatever reason, she is not always as skilled as other Vulcans are in blocking her emotions from Deanna, though still much better than the majority of other humanoids. Knowing that this must be a source of consternation for the doctor, she chooses not to press the matter. Instead, she grabs another strawberry.

 

“Sickbay to Dr. Selar.” It’s her. It’s Beverly. Deanna’s stomach drops and, no longer hungry, she abruptly puts the uneaten strawberry back into the bowl.

 

Selar locks eyes with Deanna for a moment before responding, “Dr. Selar here.”

 

“Are you busy?”

 

“I am with –” Selar sees Deanna shaking her head and changes course, “I am with a patient. However, we are almost finished.”

 

“That’s fine, I just wanted to go over a few more things with you before the conference starts.”

 

“Understood. I will be there as soon as possible.”

 

“Thank you. Crusher out.”

 

Selar stands to leave, but pauses and carefully regards Deanna, who is clutching her bowl of strawberries a little too tightly, before speaking. “Perhaps it is not, as Terrans would say, ‘any of my business,’ but you should know – as one of her doctors, of course – that Dr. Crusher has been suffering from acute insomnia over the past couple of days.”

 

“Oh. I will… I will be sure to make note of that in my logs.”

 

Selar gives her one short, sharp nod. “Good. I will leave you now. If you experience any problems, alert me immediately.”

 

Even after Selar leaves, Deanna simply stands there holding the bowl, breathing in and out the way the Vulcan showed her. This helps, and she finds she’s able to refocus much more quickly than she could right after the Joining. Besides, they all know what is most important right now, and it is not their own feelings. She sets the bowl back in the replicator to be recycled, then runs a hand through her tangled hair. Ready, she needs to get ready. She’s sure she looks like a mess. Fortunately, Lwaxana long ago endowed her with the art of arranging oneself fashionably yet quickly and by the time Worf contacts her to let her know the representatives have arrived, she looks the very picture of a confident, competent Federation Ambassador. And despite everything, she feels like one. Armed with Lwaxana’s poise, Odan’s experience, and her own formidable intuition and strength of will, she strides into the conference room, prepared for whatever comes her way.


	10. Chapter 10

Over six hours later, most of the Enterprise’s senior staff, along with Governor Leka and several members of Lathal and Kalin’s staff, are anxiously waiting for the representatives and Ambassador Odan outside of the observation lounge. Finally, Lathal and Kalin emerge, with Deanna following, looking exultant, if exhausted. Kalin is the first to speak. “Alpha and Beta… will not be going to war.”

 

Immediately, the quiet tension in the room dissipates, to be replaced with excited murmuring. Lathal holds up his hands for silence and says, “This is by no means the end, however. Our two peoples still have a long way to go to repair the damage that has been done, by both sides.” He looks over at Deanna, standing between the two men. “We would have never even gotten this far if it weren’t for the efforts of Ambassador Odan, in all her incarnations.”

 

Deanna nods her thanks for the acknowledgement, though there is a certain discomfort in the reminder of the newfound public knowledge of the true nature of Trills. Even though Neren  wanted a change, five lifetimes of enforced secrecy are difficult to ignore. Thankfully, this is not the time or place for speech-making: that will be done by Kalin and Lathal on their respective moons. Here, they simply shake hands before separating to consult with their staffs.

 

As expected, Beverly is absent from the proceedings, so it is Selar, wielding her tricorder, who is the first of the Enterprise’s staff to approach Deanna. The dizziness from the day before returned with a vengeance during the last forty-five minutes of the conference and it took all her concentration to continue as if nothing was the matter. Selar quietly announces the readings on the tricorder, so that none of the Peliari can hear, “White count slightly elevated, but your temperature remains stable, as does your metabolic rate. Are you in any pain?”

 

“Not much. Just a slight headache.”

 

Selar trades her tricorder for a hypospray, which Deanna gratefully accepts. Selar says, “This will help. Have you eaten since breakfast?”

 

“No, we were too wrapped up in negotiations…”

 

“I suspected as much. I sent Nurse Ogawa to get you some food.”

 

“Thank you.” Deanna looks over Selar’s shoulder, where the rest of the staff is hanging back until she’s ready. When she sees Will among them, she realizes with chagrin that she hasn’t talked to or even asked about him since Joining. Immediately, she crosses over to him to apologize. “Will, I’m –”

 

Will stops her. “It’s okay, Deanna, the Captain explained everything yesterday evening when I first woke up. You’ve been through a lot these past couple of days.”

 

“Still, I should have… I didn’t even think…”

 

Will grins and spreads his arms out, giving her a chance to get a good look at him. “I’m fine,” he turns in a circle, “See? Good as new!”

 

Deanna’s chest swells with affection for him and she steps in for a hug, which he doesn’t hesitate to give, despite their semi-official surroundings. “Oh, Will. I’m glad you’re all right.” Especially considering she’s partially to blame for his injuries. Or well, Odan is.

 

He steps back and surveys her. “I’m glad you are too… Ambassador. Your mother would be proud.” He laughs a little. “All of them would be, I’m sure.”

 

Before anything else can be said, they’re surrounded by their fellow crew mates, who all want a chance to congratulate Deanna. And the rest of the day is filled with a whirlwind of activity: a celebratory reception for the delegates, a debriefing with the Captain, reports to file, and more medical tests to run with Dr. Selar. Deanna had intended to talk to Will some more, but now, at the end of the day, all she wants is a chance to recuperate, to not have to think about anything important.

 

However, when she finally returns to her quarters, something – someone – very important is waiting for her in the hallway outside. Deanna stops short. “Beverly?”

 

“Odan.” It’s conciliatory, the way she says their name. She takes a step towards them. “I ….” Her voice drifts off uncertainly, guiltily, but she doesn’t take her eyes off of them.

 

Deanna takes a step forward as well, presses her hand to the lock, and opens the door. “Do you want to come in?” That’s the wrong question. She can feel Beverly’s answer to that: please, yes, more than anything. The actual question is: Will Beverly come in?

 

With one more step, Beverly answers it.

 

Deanna follows, allowing the door to close behind them. Beverly remains glued in her place right in front of the doorway, like that one step took everything she had in her. Maybe it did. Deanna circles around to face her. Beverly’s breathing is heavy and quick with tension so she tries to slow it down as she speaks, “I thought staying away would make it easier. For both of us. But… I can’t do it. I want you too much. All of you.” Before Deanna has a chance to respond, Beverly is in her arms and they share a long, slow kiss that is both their first and thousandth. Deanna gasps when Beverly finally pulls away, feeling suddenly as if there is very little air in this room.

 

Beverly rests her forehead on Deanna’s. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, you needed me and I wasn’t there.”

 

“It doesn’t matter, you’re here now.” She nuzzles Beverly’s cheek and nose with her own, a very Trill gesture of affection. Then, there are no more words, just Beverly’s lips and body pressed against hers. Deanna stumbles backwards with the force of Beverly’s ardor until she’s pinned to the nearest wall. Beverly thrusts one leg between Deanna’s legs and moves her mouth to the nape of Deanna’s neck while her hands tug at the fastenings of her dress uniform. As soon as the tunic falls open, Beverly begins to knead Deanna’s breasts through the fabric of her bra. The sensation is more stimulating than it might normally have been: Odan hasn’t been a woman in a long time. She groans and rubs herself against Beverly’s thigh. Beverly only allows this to continue for a minute or so before she breaks away, takes Deanna by the hand, and leads her to the bedroom. They both quickly shed their clothing and tumble together onto Deanna’s bed, where they begin their exploration of one another’s bodies in earnest.

 

Despite the intensity of their desire for one another, they are slow and methodical in their ministrations, wanting to savor every minute. Everything about Beverly is so familiar and yet so new: the graceful curve of her back as she arches off the bed, the scent of her arousal, the soft panting breaths. It’s all so intoxicating, made a hundred times more so by Deanna’s empathic senses. She curls the fingers she has inside of Beverly experimentally and is rewarded with a low moan. Her mouth soon joins her fingers at work, eliciting a husky demand for more. Deanna is more than happy to oblige, pumping faster and sucking harder until Beverly, legs trembling and fingers tangled in Deanna’s hair, comes with a silent shudder. The doctor only takes a moment to catch her breath, then pushes herself to her knees and straddles Deanna in order to return the favor. Deanna was already on the edge after sharing in Beverly’s orgasm, so a few expert thrusts of Beverly’s fingers is all Deanna needs to finish, crying out as she does.

 

Beverly climbs off of Deanna and collapses beside her. The two of them lay side by side for a long time not speaking, with only the heavy sounds of their breathing and the ever present hum of the ship’s engines to break the silence. As the afterglow fades, Deanna can feel the apprehension creeping back into Beverly’s thoughts. Deanna rolls on her side and, propping herself up on one elbow, reluctantly begins, “Tomorrow–”

 

“I don’t want to think about it,” Beverly interrupts.

 

“But we should.”

 

Beverly turns her head towards Deanna, her blue eyes pleading and desperate. “Please. Let’s just have tonight.”

 

Odan’s heart sinks. He knows, in that instant, Beverly is not going to stay with him. Her arrival on their doorstep wasn’t, as he had thought, an acceptance of his love. It was a goodbye to it. “Just tonight,” he repeats, voice cracking.

 

Beverly reaches over to stroke Deanna’s face. “I do love you. Please remember that. But... tomorrow, you’ll have a different host and then what? What will they be like? You are already not the same as you were just a few days ago. How many more times will I have to live through this?  Perhaps it is a human failing, but I just don’t think I can live with the changes, with that much uncertainty.”

 

Deanna presses her cheek into Beverly’s palm. “No, the failure was mine.”

 

With a sad smile, Beverly forgives Odan with a kiss, then another, then dozens more as their bodies entwine once again in farewell.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Alone again. In many ways, it is a relief. Her thoughts are hers, and hers only, no matter how muddled they still may be. The sickness, too, is gone, along with the uncomfortable awareness that she does not belong. Yet there is also a deep sense of loneliness, such as she’s never experienced before, and she has to wonder if it will ever entirely go away. In an attempt to assuage this feeling of isolation, Deanna completely relaxes her mental guards, allowing the emotions of her crewmates to wash over her unfiltered. She stands staring out the large picture windows in the Observation Lounge, letting her mind float amongst the others, taking comfort in their presence.

 

Amidst this cacophony of a thousand minds, she doesn’t immediately notice the ones who have come to say goodbye. Someone rests a tentative hand on her shoulder and she jumps, her guard back up in an instant.

 

“I’m sorry, Deanna. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

 

Deanna turns to see a very young Trill woman, a stranger, yet one she recognizes instantly. “Oh! Hello, Odan.”

 

“Hello.” She gives Deanna a small smile. “It’s Kareel now. Kareel Odan.”

 

“Kareel. I like it.”

 

“Thank you,” she looks away bashfully, focusing on the star field outside rather than on Deanna’s face. “This is… a little strange. Seeing you, I mean.”

 

“I can’t tell quite what to make of it, myself.” From what she can remember, if a Joined Trill ever meets their previous host face to face, it is in the few minutes between the transfer of the symbiont, and that only if the former host is lucky enough to be able to choose the day of their passing. She tilts her head curiously. “Am I… that is… can you still hear me, in your mind?”

 

“A little, yes.” She glances at Deanna and chuckles. “You keep trying to insist that we are not Trill. When I first looked in the mirror today, I was shocked to find I had spots!”

 

Deanna laughs too, then says, “Oh, dear. I’m sorry about that.”

 

“There’s no need to apologize. You will always be a part of me and I’m glad of it. What you did… it’s a debt I can never repay.”

 

Deanna demurs, “There is nothing that needs to be repaid. I only did what was right, what I would do for anyone whose life was in danger.”

 

Odan turns her gaze back to Deanna. “I know you would, which is why I am proud to have been Joined with you, even for only a few days. Not everyone would have been willing to take the risk that you took. You not only saved me, but the Peliari as well.” She takes both of Deanna’s hands in hers. “And I will be forever grateful.”

 

Smiling, Deanna gives Odan’s hands a squeeze before letting go. “What will you do now?”

 

“That’s a good question.” She crosses her arms thoughtfully. “I am – Kareel is – a geologist, but now… I fear I may not be able to conduct my research in peace, as I had planned. Already, I have received a barrage of messages from Trill, from all manner of people. It seems I am at the center of a great cultural debate. Before, I often argued for a change in how we dealt with other peoples, but I never expected that change to come in such a dramatic way as this, or that I would be the catalyst for it.”

 

“The people who find themselves in such a position rarely do expect it.”

 

“I suppose you’re right. Still, I wish… I wish it did not have to be this way.” Odan doesn’t need to say it for Deanna to know she’s also talking about Beverly, not her only newfound role as a symbol for change. Her broken heart beats out the message loudly enough. “I can’t be with her, but you… you should go to her.”

 

Deanna feels the warmth in her cheeks rise. She thought that once Odan was gone, her feelings for Beverly would disappear. They have not. Diminished in intensity, yes, but still there. She huffs out an exasperated laugh. “What a mess we are.”

 

One corner of Odan’s mouth curls upwards, and says, in a jokingly self-deprecating tone, “Indeed. I doubt I ever will properly sort myself out, but you at least stand a chance, without me around.”

 

“I’m going to miss you terribly.”

 

“And I you. Perhaps… we can write.”

 

“I’d like that.”

 

Before anything else can be said, the Trill transport ship hails Odan, so they share a brief hug before the young woman walks away, off to start her new life. Deanna waits for a few minutes, watching out the window for the transport. As it passes by, preparing to go warp, she murmurs a Rixxian benediction for good luck for Odan, then asks, “Computer, what is the location of Dr. Crusher?”

 

“Dr. Crusher is in holodeck three.”

 

A few minutes later, Deanna is on the Orient Express, in the early twentieth century, walking through a seemingly endless line of eerily empty passenger cars, devoid of the usual colorful cast of characters that populate such period pieces. It is not until she reaches the last car before the baggage compartment that she discovers Beverly, curled up in one of the plush seats with her feet tucked under her and her forehead pressed against the window. She doesn’t look up when Deanna sits down beside her. Instead, she reaches out one hand, searching for Deanna’s, and when she finds it, she grips it tightly.

 

“What are we going to do?” she whispers, her breath fogging up the glass.

 

Deanna rests her head on Beverly’s shoulder. “I don’t know.”

 

“Well, if you don’t know, then I sure as hell don’t.”

 

“That’s okay. We don’t have to. Not right now.”

 

“But Will,” Beverly protests.

 

“And the Captain,” counters Deanna.

 

“I wish Odan had never –”

 

Deanna raises her head, “Don’t say it. You don’t mean it.” And it would hurt too much to hear.

 

Beverly turns away from the window. “No,” she begrudgingly admits. “I don’t.” She rests her head against the back of her seat, her eyebrows knit together as she searches Deanna’s face. “It’s just that… looking at you now… I don’t know yet exactly what it is that I’m feeling. And it may take me some time before I do.” It’s a warning, one meant to protect Deanna, but there’s a little bit of a promise in there as well, especially in the way Beverly is still holding her hand like it’s a lifeline.

 

“Beverly, I didn’t come here expecting any sort of decisions or … declarations from you. I came here because I care about you. That’s all.”

 

“I … would you just sit with me? For a while?”

 

Deanna nods. She can do that. Beverly returns her gaze to the window, so Deanna looks out as well. The train rumbles on, winding its holographically perpetual way through the rustic European countryside, as if there is nothing else out there and they have all the time in the world. 


End file.
